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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124468">Jesse’s Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericsonclan/pseuds/ericsonclan'>ericsonclan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>OG World [61]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Death, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:46:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericsonclan/pseuds/ericsonclan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the first day of the apocalypse Jesse's life irrevocably falls apart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>OG World [61]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jesse’s Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(by Laura)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jesse’s throat was burning. He didn’t know how long he had been running for but he couldn’t stop now. He was still a half mile away from home. A half-formed prayer rolled round and round in his mind as he ran: <em> Please, please, let him be safe. </em>There was no one else home. If he could just get there quickly, if their house was remote enough… Jesse couldn’t live with ifs. He needed to know.</p><p>The woods were quiet save for the young teen’s frantic breathing. The peaceful surroundings seemed a cruel lie after what he had faced downtown. He and Samuel had been skipping school together when they saw the first of them: reanimated corpses wandering the streets. The boys had witnessed an adult walk up to one in an effort to communicate, to see if the person groaning and convulsing as they wandered down the sidewalk needed medical assistance. The man had his throat ripped out for his generosity. Soon more of the roaming dead had come out, their numbers growing even as the living ran in fright. Jesse and Samuel had fled together.</p><p>Samuel hadn’t made it far. One of those monsters had grabbed him and before he even realized what had happened it had bitten into his arm. His screaming had drawn more of the creatures in, their numbers ensuring he had no means of escape. Jesse had tried throwing rocks to distract them and had attempted to take one down with a standing sign he’d used as a blunt weapon against it, but none of his strikes seemed to do any damage. The creature just kept coming at him, pushing him further and further away from Samuel. By the time Jesse circled round to escape his pursuer it was already too late. Samuel lay dead on the ground, his body still twitching as the monsters consumed his flesh. Jesse felt as though he would be sick. Alone and unprotected, he ran to his one refuge: home.</p><p>Racing across the dirt path that led up to their driveway, Jesse tore open their front door. His shoulder length hair swished with his movements as he frantically looked right and left, not seeing anyone within the hallway or the living room.</p><p>“Grandpa?” Jesse’s voice bounced against the walls of the empty rooms. Mom was out of town, headed to a location she’d kept secret from Jesse for fear he would follow in hopes of getting to meet his father. But Grandpa had to know where she’d gone. They’d try calling her first and if that didn’t work, they’d drive out to find her. If the roads out of Yellowhill were blocked, they’d turn back and get the horses. They wouldn’t let their family be separated.</p><p>Stepping further into the house, Jesse strode through the living room. Grandpa was probably outside. Best to cut through the house and use the back door. If he was walking the woods surrounding their home, it might take forever to find him. Jesse’s heart froze though when he heard a rustling sound coming from within the kitchen. That didn’t sound like his grandpa; it sounded like a wild animal. Grabbing a vase from upon the table as he passed it, Jesse instinctively held it out in front of him as he approached the kitchen.</p><p>The kitchen door creaked as it opened, causing Jesse to flinch. The scuffling sounds didn’t cease though; the noise hadn’t been heard. Pushing open the door fully, Jesse entered the room with vase in hand. As his eyes took in the scene, the vase slipped from his hands, crashing to the floor as Jesse looked upon the floor in horror. His grandfather lay there, his eyes dull and lifeless as wet blood lay upon his torn up cheek. His body had been eviscerated. Internal organs lay scattered upon the linoleum floor. Some of those organs were held in the sickly pale hands of a monster, one whose head turned in interest at the sound of the crash.</p><p>Jesse’s hands slammed against his mouth, choking back the cry that wanted to burst forth. He stood paralyzed, watching the monster with terror as its milky eyes gazed meaninglessly in his direction before the creature returned to its meal. Another punch to the gut came quickly as Jesse realized who he was looking upon. This wasn’t some nameless freak. This was – no – this had been their neighbor, Mr. Peterson. He was one of those things now. Mr. Peterson was gone and in his place was a creature chewing up Grandpa’s intestines.  </p><p>Jesse felt his eyes narrow in rage. This monster had taken everything from him. His grandfather, the kindest, wisest man he’d ever known, and with him any hopes of finding his mother either. Stepping forward, Jesse grasped one of the kitchen knives, brandishing it over his head as he ran at the creature with a mighty cry. The creature turned toward the noise only to be pinned to the ground as Jesse drove the knife straight into its chest. Pulling it out, Jesse stabbed the monster again and again, aiming for its heart. Blood spurted out of Mr. Peterson’s corpse in plentiful quantities, coating Jesse’s hands and splattering across his face. But no matter how many times Jesse stabbed it, the creature didn’t die. It was just like his fight with the monster downtown.</p><p>Narrowly avoiding the creature’s grasp, Jesse pulled away, backstepping quickly. He needed a new tactic, one that would destroy the creature completely. But what could he use? He couldn’t rely on fire; that would burn this whole place down. His grandfather’s gun was in the safe and Jesse had no idea what the code was. The creature was getting to its feet, uninterested in its meal now that there was living flesh to pursue. Jesse’s heart was in his throat as he turned to run back toward the living room, searching desperately for a proper weapon. Anything big enough to crush the monster was too heavy for him to move. Would he be forced to flee his own home to save his life. <em> Fuck that. </em> Jesse glared back at the monster which was still in pursuit. <em> I’m not giving it my home. </em></p><p>If he couldn’t kill it, he’d have to trap it. From the creature’s movements, crashing blindly into every object round it, Jesse was confident in his assumption that it couldn’t use doorknobs. The living room had too many exits though. He couldn’t trap it here. He’d have to choose somewhere smaller. Jesse’s eyes shot over to the bathroom. It was a risk heading into a room so small, but he knew he could handle it. Dropping the bloodied knife and grabbing a ball of yarn his mother had been using for a knitting project, Jesse sprinted towards the bathroom. Wrapping the yarn round the doorknob several times, Jesse let the string dangle loosely as he stepped father and farther within the room.</p><p>Finally, his back hit the wall. “Hey fucker, come in here and get me!”</p><p>The creature responded immediately to his words, hobbling towards the door as unearthly moans gurgled forth from its maw. Once it was inside, Jesse yanked on the string, closing the door with a decisive click. It was just him and the monster together in the room. But not for long. Jumping up on the edge of the bathtub, Jesse reached up for the sill of the window he’d escaped through on many a late night. Hoisting himself up with a grunt, Jesse began to wriggle his way out of the window, turning so he exited headfirst.</p><p>Footsteps thudded across the floor. The creature had heard him. It would only take a few steps for it to be upon him. Jesse was halfway through, pulling himself further out with every second. He could feel a hand reach out for his ankle. Jesse blindly kicked his other foot out, smashing into what must have been the monster’s face and sending it tumbling to the floor with an unceremonious crash.</p><p>Jesse tumbled the rest of the way out of the window, falling to the ground with a rough thud. He looked up to see a hand shoot out of the bathroom window, the fingers grasping eagerly at the air. No attempts were made to exit the window though. He was right, those things were stupid. Leaping to his feet, Jesse ran back inside. He’d barricade the bathroom door just to be safe.</p><p>It took several minutes to clear the bookshelf and wobble walk it back and forth till it lay flush against the bathroom door. Once that was done, Jesse finally had a moment to breath. That was when it hit him. His grandpa was dead. His body lay in the kitchen. He’d have to call someone to take care of it, wash and bury it. But if the entire county had monsters coming to life like he’d seen today, was there even somebody who could help? Would he have to bury his grandfather himself? Jesse didn’t want to go back in the kitchen. He didn’t want to see all that again. But he couldn’t leave Grandpa like that either. His stomach twisting inside him, Jesse walked through the living room and back into the kitchen.</p><p>The body was gone. Blood and guts still covered the floor, but there was no corpse. Jesse’s heart thumped loudly as his panic rose. What was going on? Grandpa was dead. He couldn’t have just walked off on his own. But then again, Mr. Peterson had reached their home and he was dead too. That must mean… A growl from the back room had Jesse realizing his suspicions must be right. His grandfather had risen, just like Mr. Peterson, just like Samuel must have back in town. He was here in the house and he would hunt, just like all the other monsters.</p><p>The source of the growl was confirmed as his grandfather emerged from the shadows. His tan skin had a sickly grey pall to it, his formerly brown eyes now milky and void as his head turned back and forth erratically. Jesse felt tears pricking his eyes. He’d lost him. He’d known that the second he saw Grandpa dead on the kitchen floor. Seeing his corpse move round like this felt as though death was mocking him, making him lose his only father once again. A choked sob escaped Jesse’s throat before he could hold it back. That was enough. His grandpa’s head turned toward the sound and the body lurched forward. Jesse felt his legs quivering beneath him. He couldn’t face his grandfather like this. He had to run.</p><p>Sprinting out of the house with tears burning his throat and running hot down his face, Jesse ran out to the paddock where Starlight and River grazed. Seizing one of the horse blankets that lay upon the fence, Jesse unlocked the gate and ran forward toward the mares. He could hear the monster that used to be his grandpa growling and moaning as it made its way outside. There wasn’t time for saddles. He’d have to ride Starlight bareback and hope River would follow along. He needed to find other survivors. That was what his grandfather would want him to do. He’d ride to their other neighbors first, see if there was anyone who could help, any home that was safe. He’d try to call his mother.</p><p>Exiting the paddock at a trot, Starlight seemed calm as she carried Jesse. River followed close behind. Jesse spotted a figure hobbling onto the porch and looked away. He couldn’t see him again. His family was gone, his house taken. His only hope was that somehow he wasn’t the only survivor left. Turning the horses toward the woods, Jesse dug his heels into Starlight’s sides, causing her to pick up speed till they were swallowed by the trees and the woods once again grew still.</p>
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